


An Honest Reflection

by Eltrkbarbarella



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Enthusiastic Consent, F/F, Face-Sitting, Fluff and Smut, Mirror Sex, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:01:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26704135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eltrkbarbarella/pseuds/Eltrkbarbarella
Summary: Beau opens her eyes once she is laid bare and startles, staring up at her own image on the ceiling.The fucking mirror!A short, smutty, surprisingly sweet fic about Beau and Yasha making good use of that mirror.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett/Yasha
Comments: 16
Kudos: 248





	An Honest Reflection

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I guess this is my introduction to the CR fandom. Please be kind, I'm really out of practice lol
> 
> I was having a string of bad days, and that one line of Yasha's about the mirror being useful turned me into a blushing mess of a lesbian, so I figured I should write Beau being a blushing mess of a lesbian too!
> 
> Special thanks to [peachspace](http://https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachspace/pseuds/peachspace) for editing this fic, convincing me to post it, and just overall being a wonderful friend♡

Beau was not expecting Yasha to literally sweep her off her feet, but here she is. With a swift motion, Yasha’s strong hands grab the backs of her thighs and she sweeps Beau up into her arms.

“Oh _fuck_.” A breathless exclamation is all she manages, her heart pounding so fast she’s dizzy with it. Beau’s legs wrap around Yasha’s waist tightly, she grabs onto Yasha’s defined biceps, her strong shoulders, finally running her hands to cup Yasha’s jaw gently. _Fuck,_ her hands are shaking.

“Was that too much?” Yasha asks with such sincerity, it’s clear this is still shaky ground for the both of them.

“No!” Beau responds a little too loud. “It’s good. This- It’s, uh… It’s really good, yeah. Brings back memories.” She laughs and presses her forehead against Yasha’s. Her breathing is still shaky, it’s embarrassing how much such a simple gesture has her weak on the knees. Beau is not a feather-light damsel, but getting carried around so easily by Yasha sure makes her feel like one.

“Good, yeah, very - yes. I-I like carrying you.” Yasha is smiling. Here we go again with the tension, but this time Beau is not scared to break it. She brings her hands up to thread her fingers through Yasha’s thick long hair. When they’re like this Yasha has to tilt her head up slightly to look Beau in the eyes, the novelty of it is exciting. She leans in for a kiss and at the same time tightens her legs around Yasha in a very deliberate shimmy that pushes her groin up against Yasha’s hard abs. It does nothing to ease the heat she feels spreading through her whole body, but she hopes she gets the point across.

Without breaking the kiss, Yasha moves her hands to cup Beau’s butt and with a strong grip encourages her to deepen her undulation, until Beau is grinding up against her in a steady slow rhythm.

Beau’s stomach swoops as she is dropped down onto the soft bedding beneath her. She was so focused on their making out; she didn’t even notice Yasha moving them steadily towards Beau’s own bed. It’s even harder to focus now that they’re horizontal. Yasha pushes her around the bed until they’re somewhere near the center. Their kissing only gets more intense, wet and noisy. Beau’s lips are tingling like she’s kissing pure lightning but the weight of Yasha pressing her down into the mattress keeps her grounded.

She feels so goddamn _horny._

She takes advantage of her now free hands to cop a good feel of Yasha’s body, the hard planes of her stomach, and the softness of her breasts. Beau sneaks a hand down between Yasha’s thighs and feels the warmth of her over her bottoms. Yasha’s soft moan has Beau grinning wickedly, she makes sure to press a little firmer and hold steady while Yasha’s hips hitch forward into her touch.

Yasha lifts herself up, bracing herself on her elbows above Beau. Her face is flushed, her eyes are shining and intense, her hair messy and falling like a curtain between them. Yasha looks almost exactly like she does in the throes of a battle. “You’re so fucking hot. You’re gorgeous, Yasha.” Beau can’t stop herself from babbling like a fool. Yasha frowns a little, she looks like she’s about to argue. “I mean it, you’re beautiful. Hey, we’re really doing this?” Beau asks.

Yasha’s expression softens for a moment. “Yes, we’re doing this.” She grabs Beau’s wrist places it back down on the bed giving one firm squeeze before letting go, as if to tell Beau to keep it there. Beau grumbles a bit, but soon forgets her protests when Yasha starts tugging on the hem of her shirt. Beau arches with it, tensing her core muscles to help the removal of her own clothes. She opens her eyes once she is laid bare and startles, staring up at her own image on the ceiling.

The fucking _mirror!_

Beau had completely forgotten it, focused as she was with finally getting it on with her hot barbarian girlfriend, but there it stands, forcing Beau to look at herself and confront just how much of a flustered mess she is. Yasha dips down to leave little love bites down Beau’s neck and chest and Beau gets to see her own facial expression as she reacts to the pleasure. She involuntarily lets out a moan, still morbidly fascinated to witness her own expressions.

Yasha pulls back, taking Beau’s pants with her, and seems to finally notice the source of Beau’s sudden distraction. “Oh, that. I knew it’d be useful.” She gives Beau a wicked little smile through their reflection, she runs her rough palms down Beauregard’s now bare thighs pushing them further apart, still looking up at the mirror. “You can really see everything, huh?”

Beau groans and covers her eyes with her forearms; even though her sight is blocked, the image of herself looking so debauched beneath Yasha persists in her mind. The entire thing is making her feel weird and tingly inside. Does she want to look? She’s sure that she and Yasha make a really hot couple, but it almost feels overwhelming, like a level of intimacy she never thought existed before. It’s making her self-conscious about how she looks with all her walls torn down. It’s the face that only Yasha gets to see.

Once again Yasha’s soft grip on her wrists returns, gently coaxing Beau to stop covering her face and firmly pinning her wrists above Beau’s head. “I think you should keep looking. You’re very beautiful too, Beau.” She’s all bare pale skin now, probably undressed while Beau was stuck in her inner turmoil, and Beau whimpers at the sight. She’d be a huge hypocrite to complain now, so she just pushes up from the bed and loops her arms around Yasha’s shoulders, pulling her back down on top of her with a soft ‘oof’ at the impact.

It’s so good to feel all that skin-on-skin contact, Yasha’s nipples are hard and brushing past her own. Beau drags her nails down Yasha’s back one last time before resuming the position Yasha put her in just moments before. Yasha gives her a smile, looking very appreciative of Beau’s obedience. She returns to Beau’s chest, tracing the curve of her small breasts with the tip of her tongue; she closes her lips around one of Beau’s nipples and gives it a gentle bite.

Beau stops trying to awkwardly hold her head up to look at Yasha and instead looks up at their reflection. She follows the movement as Yasha reverently makes her way down Beau’s body, slowly, passionately, like she’s appreciating every inch displayed in front of her. Yasha rubs her face on the coarse hair of Beau’s mound, so close to where Beau so desperately wants her to touch. Her fingers part her at first, dragging across the wetness there, followed by a firm lick, top to bottom that has Beau’s hips lifting off the sheets to follow it.

Yasha’s black and white hair is splayed across Beau’s brown skin. The stark contrast of colors looks intimately beautiful, and on her silken blue sheets they look like one of those raunchy illustrations from Jester’s porn books. The Widow and her Empire brat, tangled up in bed and finally accepting the perfect way their scars slot together.

Beau’s hips are pushed back down to the bed with a rougher grip than Yasha has been using so far. She’s held open, even as her body instinctively tries to move into the caress, Yasha keeps her down right where she wants her. Her tongue picks up a rhythm, tracing the folds of Beau’s labia and flicking up against her clit, steady, relentless, lingering whenever Beau’s sighs get louder. Beau grips her own hair, long since set loose from its usual neatly tied style; she rubs and pinches her own nipples, trying to distract herself from trying to touch Yasha.

Yasha releases one of Beau’s legs, moving on to tracing her opening with one calloused finger - almost instinctively the freed leg hooks around Yasha’s neck, pushing her closer to Beau’s cunt in a plea for her to continue. Yasha huffs a little laugh, “You like this a lot, don’t you?” she says with her wonderfully low and breathy voice, her lips dragging against Beau’s most sensitive place. Yasha holds her tongue still over Beau’s clit and slowly pushes a finger inside her. This bashful and incredibly sexy woman is wrecking Beau, and she’s loving every second of it.

Beau’s hips grind up and down on Yasha’s tongue as she lets out a high pitched keen. Gods, she hopes Caleb wasn’t kidding about the lead walls; that was uncharacteristically loud even for her. “Ah, fuck. Yasha, there, more, fuck me!”

Yasha takes her advice, curving up her finger and rubbing at that spot enthusiastically, she closes her lips around Beau’s clit and sucks on it gently, flicking her tongue at the same pace. Beau feels like she’s being devoured, her eyes don’t stray from the mirror anymore, taking in all the details of how Yasha’s body moves, how her muscles tense and release, and how her skin has taken on a sheen of sweat.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” Beau struggles to keep her eyes open. Yasha slips in two more fingers with little resistance, not a surprise, with how wet Beau feels down there. She feels incredibly full as Yasha pumps them in and out faster, dragging against her sensitive spot and still not letting up on her clit. Yasha’s tattoo shimmers a beautiful emerald green shifting with her quick movement. “Yasha! Yash, I’m gonna come! I’m close, I’m gonna-”

Beau squeezes her eyes shut as pleasure shoots through her like a shock, her muscles clamp in place and she’s worried for a moment she’s going to hurt Yasha with how hard her legs are pressing down on her. Beau moans through her aftershocks, left shivering when Yasha playfully grazes her teeth against Beau’s sensitive clit before moving away entirely.

Dropping little kisses and bites seemingly at random, Yasha makes her way back up Beau’s body, her mouth is slick and shiny and she’s smiling. She gives Beau a peck on the lips and brushes her hair off her sweaty forehead.

“You’re amazing, Yasha, that was incredible,” Beau mumbles, still trying to catch her breath.

Yasha’s eyes are still burning hot with desire, her fingers slick with Beau’s juices. Beau can feel a warmth spread inside her chest. She was laid bare before this incredible brave, beautiful, powerful woman, and she still looks at Beau with all her passion. There’s something growing roots deep inside of Beau, that’s been there for quite a while now, and it’s getting harder and harder to ignore. _‘I think I love you for real’_ she thinks, but doesn’t say it out loud. It’s not the right time for that. She wants Yasha to know she means it, so it can’t come at a time where she can blame it on post coital bliss.

Yasha nuzzles on Beau’s neck and murmurs, “You taste good.”

Beau flushes again, she can feel her cheeks burning. “Ah- y- uh… Do you want me to do something for you too?” She turns to Yasha, no less awkward, but a little less lethargic after those words injected a new vigor to her libido.

Yasha resurfaces, looking at Beau for a long time; she slowly runs her thumb across Beau’s lower lip. “Can I sit on your face?” She asks, still with that hot conspiratorial whisper.

“Fuck yes.” Beau answers immediately, reaching for Yasha to tug her into position. Her field of vision is soon overtaken by Yasha’s beautiful sculpted body, her muscular legs frame Beau’s debauched face and her hands card gently through Beau’s hair. The mirror is forgotten, Beau’s only point of focus is now the warm wet treat hovering an inch from Beau’s eager mouth.

Yasha lets out a long sigh when she finally sinks down far enough for Beau to reach, her abs twitch and she gives a gentle rock forwards onto Beau’s tongue. After this much anticipation, Beau has a hard time pacing herself. She grabs a handful of Yasha’s butt and licks Yasha’s pussy like a woman starved, relishing in her sharp taste.

Maybe Beau is more into the visual aspects of sex than she thought, because even with an admittedly poor vantage point to watch all that’s going on, the sight of Yasha’s skin pebbling with goosebumps, the flash of rosy pink of her nipples, and the shifting of her muscles as she grinds down on Beau’s tongue... it’s all stirring those deep feelings inside of Beau all over again.

Yasha uses both hands to hold Beau in place by the hair, her hips thrusting back and forth in shuddery little motions, owning her in a way that’s simultaneously unbelievably hot and deeply comforting. Beau runs one of her hands up Yasha’s quivering abs up to cup one of her breasts and pinches her nipple lightly. She can barely catch a breath now, with how hard Yasha is riding her face, but she can tell Yasha’s all tensed up like a coil about to snap, so what’s a little discomfort when in exchange she gets to bring this amazing woman to the brink.

When Yasha comes, she arches her back like she’s about to bamf out her wings. It’s absolutely jaw-dropping, and Beau doesn’t care that she pulls a little too hard on her hair; she wants to see it all over again, from every angle she can think of, possibly forever. In that moment they’re both in the sky again. Yasha is ethereal.

Yasha shakily dismounts herself from Beau’s face, moving sluggishly to lie on her back beside her. Beau reaches out to hold Yasha’s hand. She looks up at their reflection on the ceiling, admiring the matching set they make. Yasha is flushed pink down to her chest, it’s the most color Beau has ever seen on her. Beau’s own image, messy and sincere, doesn’t seem nearly as scary now.

“You taste good too,” She says, and Yasha laughs. They turn on their sides to face each other, their hands still connected. When Beau’s eyes drift shut all she can picture is them still twisted up together, like a piece of art reflected up in that mirror.


End file.
